Furthest Place From Home
by Far Away In Wonderland
Summary: Draco's passport was American, his values were American, even his accent was American, so what if there was no place for him at Hogwarts, as well? What if they sent him home when they noticed that he wasn't who they thought he was supposed to be? What if they found him lacking? Sequel to "Closest Thing to Family".


Sequel to **"Clostest Thing to Family"**. Read that first, otherwise you won't get what's happening in this fic.

* * *

London was different than New York.

Of course, Draco had known that before; he wasn't stupid after all and yet now as he was here, he could practically feel it. New York was always busy, always changing, experimenting and evolving. London was busy and hectic, too – every city with millions of inhabitants would be – but there was a certain gravitas to it that New York simply lacked. Every nook and cranny, every street and house, every corner stone around here reeked of history, as if the spectres of everything they had witnessed still hung over everything and imbued it with a sense of importance.

He didn't really have the words to describe it properly, but he couldn't deny what he was feeling. It wasn't unpleasant, just...there, at the back of his head.

He wouldn't really spend much more time in London, though. Tomorrow the Hogwarts Express would take him to the school from Kings Cross Station. Every time Draco thought about it, there was this confusing mess of feelings that made his stomach turn.

His parents wanted him to go to Hogwarts, Draco knew that. And the thought of walking the same halls as his parents had, listening to the same lessons they had, reading the same books as them, made this yearning course through Draco. It wasn't as if he didn't love Mike (or Harvey) and he often felt bad for these thoughts, but he couldn't help but wonder about his parents: What kind of people had they been? What did they believe in? What did they strive for? Did they love each other?

Where did Draco come from?

It wasn't as Mike had never told him anything. He hadn't held anything back – even the bad parts (mainly the bad parts) – and had answered Draco's questions whenever he had them, but there were many things he didn't know because he had seen his mother once when she had given Draco to him and then she and his father had died.

Maybe going to Hogwarts would give him the answers he sought, so that he could finally be sure of who he was in order to become who he wanted to be. Maybe he would find the connection to his parents that he never had and could finally lay all those doubts and insecurities to rest.

But Draco was also afraid of not fitting in. He hadn't grown up in Wizarding Britain, didn't know its culture and tradition like someone who had lived it since birth would. Of course, Mike being who he was, had devoured book after book about the matter and had told Draco nearly everything, but reading things in books was different than actually living through them. His passport was American, his values were American, even his accent was American, so what if there was no place for him at Hogwarts, as well? What if they sent him home when they noticed that he wasn't who he was supposed to be? What if they found him lacking?

"You're looking way too sombre for someone who's about to go to a school that's housed in a castle and teaches magic." Draco looked up to see Mike sitting across from him, the traveller guide for London shut close on the table between them.

"Where's Harvey?" he wanted to know. He only ever called them 'Dad' (Mike) and 'Father' (Harvey) in front of other people, because when he just called them 'Mike' and 'Harvey' they usually asked questions about his background and he would need to explain that his parents' death and how he came to be with Mike. It was easier to claim them as his parents in public, especially as he and Mike shared some outward traits, but in private they were just Mike and Harvey.

His parents were dead and he didn't need new ones. He had Mike and Harvey.

"At the reception," Mike replied. "He found a hair and a little bit of dust and is now trying to get us a discount on our last night's stay." He let out a sigh of suffering. Draco could sympathise: Harvey was a horribly demanding guest to have. Sometimes it was borderline embarrassing for Mike and Draco.

"Don't think you can distract me, though," Mike continued. "Tell me what's going on with you." Draco gazed down on his hands, looking at every finger as if it would stop time and get him out of answering Mike's question.

"What if I don't fit in?" he finally mumbled, barely intelligible. He looked back up at Mike and saw nothing but understanding and kindness in his father figure's eyes.

"That's what has you worried? That no one's gonna like you?" Draco nodded.

"Well, I obviously can't promise you that everything will be roses and sunshine," Mike told him. "But statistically speaking, there have to be at least one to three people who you can stand and want to be friends with. It was the same for me: I wasn't really that much liked during school, but I had Trevor and Jenny, so I didn't care." He smiled at Draco. "You just need to find your Trevor and Jenny and everything's going to be fine." Hearing those words made the pressure on his shoulder ease a little bit. Mike had always had a gift with words and with taking away Draco's fears.

"And as for your fear of not fitting in? Again, I can't promise you anything, but if you don't try to force it, then it will happen by itself. And if it doesn't? Your parents never specified how much time you had to spend in Hogwarts or that you needed to graduate there. If you really don't like it there, Harvey and I will get you out. We went over the will quite a few times and found all the loopholes we'd need."

Sometimes, Draco just loved how smart his guardians were. Other times – especially when he was about to get in trouble – not so much.

"What am I hearing about loopholes?" Harvey entered their hotel room, a satisfied smirk tugging on his lips. "Who are we going up against?"

"No one," Mike told him. "I just told Draco that we had contingency plans in place should he not like Hogwarts."

Harvey scoffed. "Of course, we do. We wouldn't be much of a lawyer if we didn't." He sat down in one of the chairs. "By the way, I did get us a discount."

Mike rolled his eyes. "Did we also get put on the hotel's black list? Will mugshots of us go up in the staff's break room?"

"When they call themselves a five-star establishment, they should be held to the concomitant standards," Harvey sneered. "After all, they were more than happy to take all of our money."

Mike sighed. "Sometimes I wonder why I agreed to marry you."

"My irresistible charm and dashing good looks?" Harvey shot back without missing a beat.

"Gross," Draco exclaimed.

"I'll remember that for when you bring your first girl- or boyfriend," Harvey threatened. "Oh, all the stories I could spill."

"I'll just join a monastery then," Draco replied. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Mike smiling at them.

"Draco's train will leave tomorrow. How about we have one last diner together before that?"

* * *

"Track 9 ¾," Harvey complained under his breath as they shoved their way through the crowds at Kings Cross Station. "There's a reason why my family emigrated to the US and that's because European wizards are fucking crazy."

"Language!" Mike hissed at his husband.

"Mike, you know I've heard that pretty much all the time," Draco reminded him. "Uncle Trevor uses it in nearly every sentence when he thinks Anna or I aren't around." He was nearly trampled over by a woman in seven-inch stilettos who was angrily shouting into her phone, but Harvey snatched him away before anything could happen.

"Remind me to tear Trevor a new one for cursing in front of my kid," Mike mumbled darkly.

"As if you don't use foul language all the time," Harvey replied, but Mike's dark glowers shut him up. "By the way, why am I the one pushing the cart with all of squirt's stuff?"

"Because Draco can barely look over the cart's handle?" Mike pointed out.

"Don't call me squirt!" Draco exclaimed. "Besides, you offered to take the cart!"

"And see what it got me," Harvey replied, his eyes shining with amusement. "Nothing but complaints from the two of you."

"Do you suppose they're wizards, too?" Draco suddenly asked and pointed towards a cart that was shoved by a harried looking man accompanied by a boy whose grin seemed to fill his whole face.

"What gave it away, the huge owl or the ancient looking trunks?" Harvey responded. "There's another one over there." He pointed at a pair of Indian descent with two daughters. "Or over there. I can't believe Mundanes around here still haven't discovered them if they're that obvious."

"Maybe there's an enchantment over the whole station?" Mike mused. "Or some sort of ambient magic that makes Mundanes not notice." He fidgeted with his left ring finger where a simple silver band sat. Draco knew that Mike had gotten it from their family lawyer many years ago and that it was enchanted so that Mundane repelling charms and other magic that kept the Wizarding World hidden had no effect on his guardian.

"There was nothing in the books you read?" Harvey inquired.

Mike shook his head. "I'll do some research once we get back, but now let's just get to platform 9 ¾ which should be right over here." He pointed towards the platform between track nine and ten. "We're supposed to just run at the pillar over there which in reality is a disguised portal." His eyes shone with amazement. Apparently, Draco wasn't the only one looking forward to their foray into the second magical location after Diagon Alley.

"Like, I said European wizards are crazy," Harvey huffed, but before either Mike or Draco could say anything else, he was already running towards the pillar. Just when Draco thought he would crash against the massive stone barrier, he just vanished through it as if it wasn't even there.

"Wow," Mike let out. "I think it's best you go next and I'll follow you." He twinkled at Draco. "I don't think you actually need to run. Harvey just likes to look impressive."

"Did it work?"

Mike sighed. "Yeah."

Draco turned back towards the brick wall, slowly setting one foot in front of the other. It was difficult because his eyes were seeing the massive stone wall which made all of his instincts scream at him to stop moving, but he had just seen Harvey running through it. The dissonance between what he sensed and what he knew, was dizzying and nearly made Draco try to evade the brick wall in the last moment, but then he was already stepping through.

It happened so fast that his body didn't even have the chance to react to the sudden change in location. One moment he was walking on the platform between track nine and ten and the next he was suddenly standing in a completely new location.

Draco's eyes grew wide as saucers as he took in his new surroundings: There was a huge steam locomotive, painted in scarlet red, that was huffing and puffing wide stream like a sleeping dragon. Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every colour wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks. The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats.

Outside the train the platform was also filled with children of all ages and their parents, some of them already wearing their Hogwarts uniform while others were still in their everyday clothing, some of it Mundane in nature, some of it obviously magical. You could spot the difference between adults with mundane background and those from Wizarding Britain with ease: The former were wearing clothes Draco was familiar with while the letter mostly dressed in robes that looked like they came straight out a Shakespear play.

Tearing his gaze away from the wonderous scene, Draco spotted Harvey standing a few meters away and walked towards him.

"Glad to see that you were brave enough to make it through," Harvey teased him.

"Mike said you just ran through the barrier to impress him," Draco shot back grinning which shut up Harvey immediately. The next person coming through the barrier was Mike who took in the scene with the same wonder as Draco had before he walked over to them.

"That was awesome," he grinned at them. "Now, let's move a little bit down the platform. It's a little bit crowded here." Mike took the lead while Harvey and Draco followed him.

Draco had to crane his neck to take in everything around him.

A mother was scolding her two children, both looking exactly alike, who just grinned at her in amusement.

"Now, you two – this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've – you've blown up a toilet or -"

"Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet."

The rest of her tirade was swallowed by the sound of the platform when they moved on, though Draco wondered why one would blow up a toilet at school. The further away they got from the portal the less crowded the platform became, which didn't mean that there weren't many people still around. It was just that now Draco was able to walk a few steps without stepping on anyone else's toes.

"I guess were far enough," Mike commented. "You might even be able to find an empty compartment for yourself."

Draco swallowed. This was it: Time for the last good-bye before he would go to Hogwarts. Now that the time had arrived he didn't really know if he wanted to go. He couldn't imagine spending months without Mike and Harvey before seeing them again during Christmas holidays.

"Hey, everything's gonna be fine," Mike assured him and then Draco was engulfed in a fierce hug. Mike was a good hugger. "You'll make friends, have fun and learn magic. You might even forget us."

"Never!" Draco protested.

"He's right, though," Harvey told him, squeezing his shoulder as a reassuring gesture. "Once you find your people, you won't miss us that much. Time will pass by faster than you might think." Draco nodded.

"Do you think my parents would be proud of me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm sure," Mike assured him. "They only ever wanted what was best for you. They had different views than us, but I don't doubt that they would have loved the person you are now: Self-confident, intelligent, cunning and kind."

"What house do you think they'd want me to be in?"

"Slytherin," Mike answered without missing a beat. "But I don't think it matters much. Your parents were very...set in their views, but in the end, they decided to give you to me to save you, so I don't doubt that they were capable of change." He crouched down so that his face what at the same height as Draco's.

"No matter which house, Harvey and I and they will be proud of you. Don't let the house you end up in define you. Cunning should be tempered by loyalty and compassion; bravery and courage should be restrained by caution and intelligence. Make friends wherever you can and don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

"It doesn't hurt to get your own house on your side, though," Harvey interjected. "And should you get into fights, which you will, because this school is filled with hormonal teenagers, what's the most important thing?"

"Plausible deniability?" Draco replied. Harvey held up his hand for a high-five which Draco enthusiastically gave him.

Mike shook his head in exasperation. "You're undoing all of my good work."

"You were thinking the same," Harvey replied cheekily.

A whistle echoed over the platform.

"I think it's time to hop on the train."

Steeling himself, Draco took his trunk and nodded. "I'll write as soon as possible." Then he took the steps leading up to the carriage and was in the train. He turned around one last time: Mike and Harvey were standing on the platform, the latter's arm slung around the waist of his husband, pressing him against his side, while they waved at him. Draco waved back and then he walked into the carriage.

The third compartment he stumbled upon was still empty, so Draco pushed the door open, stowed away his trunk in the baggage rack and sat down on the seat at the window. Not a minute too late for it was in this moment that the next and final whistle rang out and then the train slowly began to move.

Draco pressed his face against the window and watched the platform slowly shrink into the distance until it was swallowed up by the city around it. He actually had brought some books with him for the journey, but Draco found that he was way too excited to read, so he chose to look out of the window and watch the city passing by. The buildings became smaller and smaller and less dense until the first meadows and fields disrupted the monotony of concrete and brick.

Draco's silent observations were interrupted when someone knocked at the compartment's door. He turned his head and saw one of the Indian girls he had seen in the Mundane part of Kings Cross station standing in the gangway.

"Oh, hello, I just wanted to ask if one of those seats were still free?" she inquired after she had pushed the door open. Draco just nodded.

"Great!" she exclaimed and pushed her trunk in which was much bigger than Draco's.

"Would you mind lending me a helping hand?" she asked after she had stared at the baggage rack in dismay. "I just couldn't decide which of my stuff I should leave at home and which to take with me." Together they were able to wrangle the trunk upwards.

"My sister actually brought two trunks with her," the girl told Draco after they had both fallen back into their seats, breathing a little bit heavy from the effort. "But I can't figure out why. It isn't as if she will have time to change between lessons or something." She let out a sigh. "But how impolite of me; I haven't even introduced myself. Padma Patil."

"Draco Malfoy," he introduced himself.

Padma raised one of her immaculate eyebrows. "Malfoy, you say? There was quite a stir a few years back about you. I was six back then, so I didn't care much, but it was all my parents and their friends were talking about at their coffee parties for a few weeks."

Draco just shrugged. "I didn't care much either."

Padma laughed. "I think it's only fair that I tell you a little bit about myself first, because I'm going to ask you quite a few things. It drives my parents insane, because they think it's insensitive, but I can't help myself, you know? I need to understand things and you can only understand something if you ask questions."

"By all means, introduce yourself," Draco replied, making a sweeping gesture with his hand as if he was conceding the floor to Padma. He could already tell that the girl liked to talk...and talk fast.

"So, as I already told you, I have a twin-sister. Her name's Parvati and she loves make-up, fashion and a good romance novel. I'm more inclined towards crime or thriller. I love to bake – I've got some cupcakes with me, you can have some later – and read about India. Our parents came to England before we were born, but I want to know everything about where we came from." She bit on her lip.

"I know what you mean," Draco told her. "I was born here, but I lived in America for nearly my whole life."

Padma nodded. "So, you know how it feels? That's so nice. Parvati doesn't really care, so I can't really talk with her about it." She straightened her skirt. "Anyway, did you hear? Harry Potter will be in our year! What house do you think he'll be in?"

Draco had heard of Harry Potter, who hadn't, after all? But to Draco the tale of Harry Potter was as tangible as the tales of Merlin. He had heard of both of them, but unlike the people of Great Britain to whom Harry Potter was their personal hero, he had no connection to the boy.

Draco had grown up in New York where Europe was distant and far away. He hadn't lived through the First Wizarding War, hadn't seen the scars that remained after its end, hadn't been brought up on tales of Harry Potter's heroism. The only connection he had were his parents' murder at the hand of the Dark Lord's followers and that was something Draco didn't really like to dwell on much.

"I don't know him," Draco shrugged. "He could get into every house."

"I bet he'll be a Gryffindor," Padma sighed. "After all, he defeated You-Know-Who. That takes bravery and courage."

"He was one back then," Draco pointed out.

"Even more impressive then!"

Draco shook his head. Harvey was right; British wizards were all crazy. Before Padma could continue with her hero worshipping, however, there was again a knock at the compartment door. This time it was a boy with bronze skin and his hair cut to a short buzzcut.

"Excuse me, are those seats still free?" he asked. "Anywhere else is full and I really don't want to spend any more time with Pansy and her gang."

"Of course," Padma invited him in. "I'm Padma Patil and blondie over there is Draco Malfoy."

"Malfoy, you say?" The boy completely ignored Padma and stepped towards Draco, stretching out his hand. "Blaise Zabini." Draco took the offered hand and shook it, because Mike didn't raise him a caveman.

"Zabini, you say," Padma injected offhandedly while she inspected her nails. "Didn't your mother's latest husband just die under mysterious circumstances a few months ago? The seventh was it, wasn't it? That's what my parents say at least."

"My mother had nothing to do with that," Blaise insisted, his voice restrained, but in his eyes Draco could see anger glinting.

"Oh, I wasn't trying to imply anything," Padma apologised. "Me and my stupid mouth. Draco and I were just talking about Hogwarts houses. What house do you want to get into?"

"Slytherin or Ravenclaw," Blaise replied. "Gryffindors are much too uncouth for me and I think Mother would disown me if I was sorted into Hufflepuff."

"She wouldn't really, would she?" Draco asked aghast. Blaise just shrugged.

"I don't care as long as it's not the same house as my sister," Padma spoke. "I mean, I love her very much, but for my whole life it was always 'Padma and Parvati' and now that I'm finally going to Hogwarts I want to be my own person. My favourite is Ravenclaw, though."

Now both of them looked at Draco expectantly.

"I don't care much either," he shrugged. "Both of my parents were in Slytherin, so I guess I wouldn't mind it, but I don't think the other houses would be that bad, either. My guardians don't care either way." Padma looked intrigued while Blaise stared at him in horror.

"But Malfoys have always been in Slytherin!" he exclaimed. "All the proper families have."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Padma wanted to know sharply. "I'll have you know that we Patils can trace our lineage back for far longer than many English pureblood lines can." Blaise looked properly cowed by her outburst.

"I didn't mean it like that," he tried to assure her.

Padma raised her eyebrows at him. "Oh, how did you mean it then?"

Mike had told Draco about the prejudices and cultural bias that existed in the Old World magical societies against anything Mundane or mundane-related. He had tried to coat it in nice words, but Draco had gotten the gist of it. He was eleven, after all, and not stupid. That didn't mean that he liked it, though. His best friends back in New York were Mundanes after all, the children of Mike and Uncle Trevor's 'Femmes Fatale' who bonded over the embarrassment of having parents who were just so loud and gossip-y. Even Mike. Especially Mike.

"Leave it be, Padma," Draco spoke. "It's our first train ride to Hogwarts and I don't want to spend it fighting. If Blaise has problems with our views, he can just decide to ignore us once we're at the school." Padma eyed Blaise in suspicion, but finally nodded after a few tense seconds.

"I've heard that History of Magic is taught by a real ghost," she said, a tentative offering of peace.

"I've heard that he only talks about Goblin Rebellions," Blaise said, thankfully taking her offer.

They were eleven, so of course, they wouldn't hold grudged very long. Maybe one day they would come to blows over the issue or not, but now they were just three kids who wanted to enjoy their first foray into the world of magic without their parents.

A few hours into the trip, the trolley lady arrived and offered candy and other snacks. And because they were all children from affluent parents who had given them way too much money for a seven-hour train ride, they bought a ridiculous amount of it. Draco especially enjoyed opening the chocolate frogs in giddy anticipation of the cards that he would find within. Quite a few Dumbledores, but also one Flamel which Blaise eyed with barely concealed envy. Padma, meanwhile, was quite cross at the lack of women in the cards.

"I'll have you know that there were quite a few Dark Ladies in European history," she told them. "They could at least have added them." Draco offered her his card of Morgana LeFey, which she thankfully took. She offered him one of her cupcakes in return.

Hopefully, they wouldn't get sick from all the candy they were eating.

* * *

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" A huge man, who was towering over the students like a mountain, shouted across the platform. Staying close to Padma and Blaise, Draco walked over to where the other first years were assembling, thankful that he had not, in fact, gotten sick, from all the candy. For a split-second, Draco caught sight of the boy he had met at Madame Malkins near the giant man, but then the crowd moved again and his sight was blocked by masses of black robes.

"How do you think we'll get to the castle?" Padma asked. "I can't see it from here."

"Well, we'll obviously find out, if we follow that man," Blaise drawled. Padma shot him a withering glare. Honestly, Draco couldn't quite figure out if they actually hated each other now or not.

"Don't worry, Neville, I'm sure your toad will show up eventually," a bushy-haired girl spoke to a timid looking boy.

"Oh, my grandma will kill me if I manage to lose him on the first day!"

Eventually, Blaise was proven right as they followed the man down a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Draco thought there must be thick threes there. Nobody spoke much, not even Padma.

"Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," the man called over his shoulder. His thick accent was really difficult to understand, at least to Draco. Even that one Texan client of Harvey's had been easier to listen to. "Jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!"

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black take. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Their leader called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Draco, Padma and Blaise took one boat and one everyone was seated, the giant man shouted: "Right then – FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

Draco couldn't really describe the way he felt when he first laid eyes upon the school which would be his home for (hopefully) the next seven years, an occurrence which seemed to occur very often when it came to magic. This castle was where his parents had met, where they and many Malfoys before them, had learned and lived. It was as much part of his family's history as everything else and Draco couldn't wait to discover its secrets.

Taking in the magnificence of the castle, a melancholic twinge shot through Draco as he realised that this was the closest thing, he would ever get to be close to his parents. His mother and his father had sat in the same boats as he currently was and had first seen Hogwarts the same way he did now and it connected them somehow, even if it was a little bit.

"It's beautiful," Padma spoke next to him, her voice full of reverence.

"It is," Draco agreed quietly. Blaise didn't say anything, but he was probably thinking the same.

"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbour, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" Asked the man, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.

"Trevor!" The timid looking boy from before shouted blissfully, holding out his hands. Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after the man's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, Oak front door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"

The man raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face which Draco thought might even be able to cower Harvey into submission.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said the man.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of their house in it, Draco thought. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors. It was so unlike anything Draco had seen in America that he feared his neck would break from all the craning he was doing so that he could take everything in.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Draco could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right – the rest of the school must already be here – but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." She then left the chamber.

Immediately, Padma turned around and grabbed his hands.

"Promise me that we still be friends, no matter which house we get sorted in," she pleaded, anxiousness shining in her eyes.

"I promise," Draco told her.

Right afterward, Padma let go of his hands and turned to Blaise. "You can hang with us, too, if you're not so mean about it."

"I'm honoured," Blaise drawled, but Draco thought that he saw the other boy's shoulders sag a little bit in relief, even if it was barely noticeable.

"This is it," Padma continued, running her hands down her already immaculate robes. "The first step to me becoming an international recognised researcher...or Minister of Magic, whatever comes first." Draco and Blaise gazes locked over her shoulder and they both rolled their eyes.

Suddenly someone behind them gasped and he could hear a girl scream. All three of them turned around to see what the commotion was about.

About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance – "

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost – I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.

Nobody answered.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

She led them out of the room, back across the hall they had come from and straight through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

Draco nearly gasped when the doors opened and they were led into the most splendid place he had ever seen. Thousands upon thousands of candles were floating mid-air above the four long tables that filled the room. It looked as if a swarm of fireflies swarming around, glittering brightly like diamonds in the sky. At the top of the hall another table was placed were the teachers were sitting. Craning his neck, Draco looked up only to see the night sky staring back at him, its millions of stars unobstructed by clouds or smog. Back in New York he had never seen anything like this.

"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History," he heard someone behind him mumbling.

Once they stood at the stairs that led up to the teacher's table, Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of them and put a pointed wizard's hat atop of it. For a few seconds there was nothing but silence, but then the hat suddenly twitched and began to sing:

"_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffis are true And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_if you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

The whole hall applauded and fell silent again.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," Professor McGonagall explained to them. "Abbott, Hannah."

Draco tuned out after the first few names until it was his turn.

'_Mmmhhh, it's been some time since I last sorted a Malfoy,'_ a voice in his head suddenly whispered after the Professor had placed the hat on his head. Draco nearly jumped off the stool.

"You knew my parents?" he whispered.

The hat just harrumphed. _'I know every Malfoy ever since your family came from France in 1066. Oh, the stories I could tell you. And now it seems that the Malfoys have taken roots in America. An interesting family dynamic you have, my boy. But where to sort you, that's the question.' _

"I don't really care," Draco said and surprisingly he meant it. Maybe his parents had been in Slytherin – and he certainly wouldn't mind it – but as much as he wanted to walk their path, like Mike had said, he was also his own person.

'_You don't?'_ the hat repeated. _'That's certainly refreshing. It isn't often that I get to sort a child that hasn't set his mind on one particular house. Then, let's shall see..._

_You're certainly smart and ambitious – how could you not be with the role models you have? - but also exceedingly loyal to those who are loyal to you. Yet, it also takes bravery to uproot your whole live to go to school in a country and society that is so alien to you. You don't plan to hide your upbringing – no, you wear it like a badge of honour – and that takes bravery as well. If you really want to leave it up to me to decide, then you'd better be..._

GRYFFINDOR!"

The hat was taken off his head. Professor McGonagall was looking at him with an undecipherable expression. The whole hall was silent as most of the students stared at him in confusion. It was exceedingly awkward as Draco made his way towards the table on his left until suddenly the two red-headed twins stood up and shouted "We got a Malfoy! We got a Malfoy!" while clapping enthusiastically. The guy next to them with impressive looking dreads on his head, stood up next and fell into the boys' chant as well until the whole Gryffindor was more or less clapping.

Draco sat down next to the bushy-haired girl (Hermione Granger if he recalled right from the sorting) and opposite the boy with the lost toad, who was called Neville Longbottom. They both offered him timid nods and then they continued to follow the sorting.

Padma was sorted into Ravenclaw, just like she had wanted, and Draco clapped enthusiastically for his friend as she walked down to her table.

Then McGonagall was calling out "Harry Potter" and the whole hall fell silent. The boy Draco had met during his robe fitting shuffled forward awkwardly.

_Huh,_ Draco thought. So, he had met Harry Potter without even realising it. Hopefully, he hadn't made a bad impression. It would be really awkward if he had insulted him somehow without even realising it.

Potter's sorting took quite a while and the first people already started whispering when the hat suddenly shouted: "GRYFFINDOR!" The applause and screaming that erupted was worse than when Harvey had taken Draco to see the Yankees, but he endured it with grace and applauded, too, because they were all Gryffindors now and he had house pride to uphold after all.

Potter sat down next to another red-head student ('Dear God, how many of them were there even?'), much to the disappointment of everyone else, except maybe Hermione Granger who was much more interested in other things.

"What subjects are you looking forward the most?" she asked, nervously fidgeting with the fringes of the table cloth. "All of them sound so interesting, but I can't decide which sounds most interesting." There was honest desperation in her eyes, as if the fate of her whole school carrier was depending on it.

"I don't know," Draco admitted honestly. "I mean, it's magic, so I guess everything's kinda cool?"

"I just hope it won't be too difficult," Neville added quietly.

Another red-head was sorted (apparently their family name was Weasley) and took the seat right next to Potter, who looked quite relieved. Maybe they were friends?

Finally, Blaise was sorted (Slytherin, of course) and then the sorting ceremony was over.

_This is it,_ Draco thought as he again looked around in wonder. He couldn't wait to see what the future would bring.

* * *

**AN:** What I actually can say, with 99,9%, is that I will never re-write all seven years, because that's way too much work. I will, however, write a last part with outsider POVs. I just don't know when.

A few parts are taken directly from "Philosopher's Stone" as I didn't want to completely re-write what didn't change from canon.


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